Ravenholm
by Necron warrior
Summary: A journal found in ravenholm...


This journal was found under a mound of bodies, being held by a skeleton completely devoid of any muscles and holding a shotgun.

It was Saturday. Yes, I am sure that's when we were shelled. I was playing poker with my good friend father gregori (I realize that he may be the reason I have time to write this journal), he had just gotten a full house and was raking in his winnings when we both heard the thumping and explosions. I looked out of the three-story building we were in and saw the destruction in its full chaos. Smoke in every direction. Fires trying to be put out, to no avail.

If I remember correctly, the number of refugees who died in the first shelling was 50. But that's just a number, to actually be there and see the people crawling, desperately trying to escape the fires and rubble. Screaming their last scream at the tops of there voices, that could change a persons view on the world. I remember seeing my childhood friend Jacob, crushed under a collapsed tower, I know it was him because his head had been propelled from his body by the weight of the tower, and it seemed to be staring at me.

I looked away in disgust. I barely got any rest that night as I was to busy burying my dead comrades. I should really thank the cruel twist of fate that I had to spend my night grave digging because, as I was digging Howard's grave, I noticed a shape emerging from one of the shells. It was a headcrab. I gaped in fear at it, as I remembered from my time working at black mesa, when the anti-mass spectrometer detonated and the aliens started appearing. I was one of the more fortunate people since I was just a janitor at the time. I was also taking my break as well when the portal was opened, but I still saw a headcrab appear in front of me so I killed it with my broom.

I was remembering that day in a dreamlike manner when the headcrab jumped at me so I whacked it with my shovel and ran towards my home. As I was running through the streets I noticed more headcrabs coming out of shells and attaching themselves to peoples heads. Now I remembered where they got there name. By the time I reached home I realised my whole street had been infected so I thought of the only idea I could.

I took my trusty shotgun off of its home atop my mantelpiece and loaded it with ammunition. _God I hope this works_, I was thinking at the time, _only one way to find out_, I realised. I smashed the window with the but of my gun and looked down its sights. I still can't believe I killed with such ruthlessness, against my own friends and neighbours. Their faces were slightly obscured by the headcrabs, and their faces were contorted in shapes of sheer pain, but I could still make out who they were. Rachel-my old ex-girlfriend, Frank-my own father, George-my brother, Mr Turkton-the grocery store owner. The list goes on. But something that had stuck with me since my school days was my greater sence of self-preservation than regard for anything-or anyone else. I realized I was running low on munitions and the pile of corpses in front of my house was getting a little excessive, that's where father gregori came in.

He burst as if from nowhere and cleared the way for me and told me to follow him to the church. I guessed I had no other option, plus he had a shotgun and ammunition strapped onto him. He led the way to the church and I followed, like a sheep and he was the shepherd. We seemed to meet little resistance on the way, for that I was grateful, it seemed others had survived as we had, but with less success. We saw piles of corpses in doorframes and mutilated un-infected bodies through the windows, in poses of last stands. It was strange following father gregori as he seemed to know every nook and cranny in this god-forsaken town.

We reached the top of a building with what seemed to be a basket lift, going diagonally over a fence into the church. I remember when Father Gregori installed the thing 'to keep away hooligans' I remember the people laughing. Didn't seem funny now.

"I will release the handbrake and lower myself to the church" he said "I will then sent it back up to you"

Every thing seemed to be going well as he was making good progress and was just about to send the basket back up to me, when I saw them. They were leaping from building to building like nothing I have ever seen. I realized they would make it here before the basket, so I went back the way we had come and locked myself in a room we had passed. I can hear them thumping at the door. My makeshift barricade will probably only hold for so lo

The rest of the journal is indecipherable as it is coated with a thick layer of blood.


End file.
